


destiny and the pre-destined

by screechfox



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, aaron burr: shitty psychic, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8858434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: When Burr meets Alexander Hamilton, two things flash into his head.The first is that this man will be one of the most important people in Burr’s life, one way or another.The second is: One day, Burr will shoot him. -The one where Burr is just the tiniest bit psychic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i said i wasn't going to write hamilton fic
> 
> lo and behold.

It’s a tricky thing, being a psychic. Not that Burr ever thinks of it like that – psychics are women in misty rooms and exotic get-ups, giving vague prophecies or holding séances. To tell the truth, he never really acknowledges it at all – that kind of talk would get him thought a madman at best, or locked up at worst.

But, whatever his feelings on the matter, it’s a fact: Ever since Burr was young, he’s had... flashes. Flashes of knowledge, sometimes even fore-knowledge, that he wouldn’t otherwise have.

Most of it had been harmless things. The certainty of rain, or snow, or knowing the subject of his lessons before they’ve been taught. At the beginning of the revolution, it had told him which of his fellow soldiers needed rest, or food, even though he couldn’t always supply them.

Sometimes, though, it was bigger than that.

 

When Burr meets Alexander Hamilton, two things flash into his head.

The first is that this man will be one of the most important people in Burr’s life, one way or another.

The second is: One day, Burr will shoot him.

Of course, it’s all set in motion after that – a prophecy made, whether it was self-fulfilling or not. After that, the event was set in stone.

Burr knows this – the knowledge already rests heavy in his heart – but he doesn’t let it show on his face. He listens to Hamilton talk, and smiles, indulgent. This man is opinionated, bright-eyed, and almost the same age as Burr. He doesn’t seem a bad person, though.

If Burr is going to shoot him, then, well. A lot can happen in the course of a lifetime, and no one said Burr had to shoot him  _ right now _ .

“Talk less. Smile more,” Burr advises. He can  _ feel _ the weight of the words echoing back through history, in a way that he never really has before.

Oh, great. He’s making history.

 

He gets a lot more flashes of important knowledge after he meets Hamilton. Either the man is some kind of ‘gifted’ too, or he just attracts the kind of events that Burr’s power thinks he needs an early warning for.

 

He’s known John Laurens’ date of death from the moment he clapped eyes on him, before Hamilton had even entered the picture. He’s never liked the man too much, and Laurens seems to have the same sort of feelings towards him. But Burr watches the way he lights up at Hamilton’s inciting speech, the deep looks that the two are already sharing. It seems all the more tragic with a death date set.

 

It’s a day of boredom when Burr meets the Schuyler sisters, all three of them. Or rather, it  _ had _ been a day of boredom. His brain tells him where he can find some upmarket ladies to flirt with, and he can’t quite resist. When Angelica Schuyler pointedly rebuffs him, he’s too enchanted to be annoyed about it. She’ll dislike him forever, but he’ll always be a little in love with her.

 

(At the exact moment when Hamilton decides to have an affair with Maria Reynolds, Burr is writing letters. He gets the sudden thought that Hamilton is making a stupid decision at that moment. Of course, Hamilton makes a lot of stupid decisions. Burr doesn’t know why his ‘gift’ would pick  _ now _ to tell him so.)

(He gets a slightly stronger flash when Hamilton decides to pay James Reynolds. He thinks the exact same thing about it, and goes back to talking with his daughter.)

 

It’s not as if Burr was expecting to be let in on the deal. He knew that he wasn’t important enough as a politician to warrant a dinner with Jefferson, Madison, and  _ Hamilton _ .

No, what smarts is Hamilton’s words to him shortly before.

“Talk less, smile more,” Hamilton had said. Joking, but also the truth of it - learning (an amount) of restraint had been what got Hamilton here, and they both knew it.

But why did Hamilton - still arrogant and loudmouthed where it counted - succeed where Burr could not?

_ When you switch parties, you’ll win a senate seat, _ his brain tells him, as he breathes through the anger. Fine. He’ll take that.

For now.

 

(And later.) 

 

Burr adjusts his gun, making sure everything is in place. When he glances up, he makes eye contact with Hamilton across the field. He can see the fore-knowledge resting in Hamilton’s chest as surely as he can feel it weighing in his own.

Both of them know, psychic or not, how this encounter is going to end. Burr is too angry to try and prolong the inevitable any longer.

“Talk less, smile more,” he murmurs as a mantra, in beat with his breath and his heart. Hamilton and Burr look away from each other at the exact same moment.

(All of Burr’s heart hopes the shot won’t be fatal. A part of Burr’s heart hopes that Alexander will shoot him too.)

They go through the motions. They raise their guns.  _ This man will not make an orphan of my daughter _ , Burr thinks, with a terrible certainty. Burr watches as a million thoughts flow through Hamilton’s head too.

Bang.

A gun fires.

Burr’s gun.

The gunshot echoes in his brain for the split second until Hamilton raises his gun to the sky.

Burr’s eyes widen. His expression half-crumples.

“ _ WAIT! _ ” Burr screams.

Burr’s a terrible shot, but the bullet hits its mark. It was pre-destined, after all.

Burr is hit with the knowledge that he is the villain of this story. He can’t tell if that’s him or his ‘gift’ talking. It doesn’t really matter. In his opinion, with Hamilton falling to the floor, it’s the truth.

He wants to run across the field, he wants to kneel by Hamilton’s fallen self and apologise for—for what? For fate, for anger, for stubbornness?

He is pulled away before he can shake himself from the emotion.

He’s bought a drink, and that’s his one solace before it really starts to set in – the grief, the charges, how irrevocable that one act was.

He never has a single flash of knowledge again.  

**Author's Note:**

> partially inspired by aaron burr as the narrator of the play, and partially inspired by a post i saw on tumblr once that i can't find again.
> 
> as always, you can find me at screechfoxes on tumblr.


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